


Various Types of Scarring

by Dr_Wahoo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ends on Soft and Fluffy Note, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Angst, Past Emotional Manipulation, Past Violence, Post-Armageddon’t
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Wahoo/pseuds/Dr_Wahoo
Summary: During their “trials,” Crowley and Aziraphale discover how their superiors treated the other. A long-overdue conversation follows.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 172





	Various Types of Scarring

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is something I wrote over the summer during the height of my GO fascination (read: obsession), and I’ve since gone back and cleaned it up. It’s one of my first attempts at writing an explicitly romantic relationship, so I’m nervous and excited to see what you all think! I hope you enjoy!

Aziraphale allowed a smile to spread across his face — or rather, across Crowley’s face. He shrugged off his jacket and swaggered to the bathtub, doing his best to match that hip-swaying stride.

_Wait a moment. Should I take off the rest of his clothes?_ he suddenly wondered, blushing slightly. _Further undressing could be an awful breach of Crowley’s privacy… yet I doubt he wants his clothes to be soaked with holy water. It could actually do him harm._

Someone pointedly cleared their throat. 

_Oh, right. Best I get on with this. I’ll just leave on the, er, undergarments and dry them as thoroughly as possible._

He wriggled out of the tight jeans, kicked off his shoes and reached for his socks. In a fluid motion, he pulled off one of the black stockings — and promptly froze.

Raised scars lined the sole of Crowley’s foot. It looked as though someone had pinched the shiny, raw skin into thin ridges. 

_These look like burn scars! But where on Earth did Crowley…?_

Aziraphale brushed a finger over the scars. They felt hot to the touch, humming with a familiar energy. 

A holy energy.

_…1941._

He pulled the sock back on with a trembling hand and lowered himself into the tub. Mind whirling, he absently stretched out his limbs.

His thoughts ground to a halt.

Pale, jagged scars twisted around Crowley’s arms and legs. Old bruises faintly purpled his kneecaps. Countless tiny scratches littered his forearms. 

_What in the name of…?_

The wounds reeked of sulfur and brimstone. Aziraphale didn’t even need to touch them to feel the thrumming of demonic energy. 

He swallowed hard. _Dear Lord! I knew that Hell was never kind to its demons, but Crowley never mentioned anything like this!_

A hand slamming into the nearby window shook him from his thoughts. Remembering himself, Aziraphale mustered a crooked grin and started to splash around in the holy water.

_It’s showtime, as the humans like to say. Now’s not the time to ponder this…_

_…but I will_ make _time for it later._

  
  


*************************************

  
  


“Shut your stupid mouth and die already.”

_Well_. _Isn’t that the bloody cherry on top?_

The flames seemed to curve towards him in greeting. They engulfed Aziraphale’s body and lapped at the anger simmering just beneath the skin. Crowley let a little seep out, making the hellfire burn brighter and hotter. He seethed to himself.

_So that’s it?! The bastards didn’t even bother faking a trial! “Oh, you’re here? Jolly good! Into the hellfire you go, traitor!”_

He noticed Gabriel’s lips curl into a sharp smile. Uriel and Sandelphon kept their faces as blank as ever, but carefully so. They held themselves like snakes coiled to strike, and Crowley felt he had plenty of expertise in that area to be certain. 

_Something’s…_ off _about them. More off than usual, anyway._

That feeling of unease persisted, crawling under his skin and running icy fingers down his spine. He felt the beginnings of a headache that wasn’t from inhaling smoke or sulfur fumes. 

_Whatever it is, it’s not very angelic. It’s… huh. There’s an idea…_

Shutting his eyes, Crowley reached out with his demonic senses.

He struck a wall of ice. The chills racing down his spine suddenly grew cold enough to burn, searing skin with an intensity that rivaled hellfire. It forced Crowley to suppress a full-body shudder. 

_It’s wrath,_ he realized. 

The angels practically radiated it. Their fury gushed like water from a broken dam, finally releasing an old and long-suppressed emotion. Disgust mixed with wrath in a powerful cocktail that churned Crowley’s stomach. 

Even worse, he could feel the targets of their disgust. Aziraphale’s rounded middle, his manicured hands, his neat bowtie — all of it was under assault.

_“A form too sullied to be angelic,”_ Gabriel sniffed.

_“A warrior gone soft,”_ Uriel hissed.

_“A foppish fool,”_ Sandalphon sneered.

Their thoughts chorused as a single chant. It rattled Crowley’s skull like the peals of church bells, ringing with enough holy righteousness to make his ears bleed.

_“He will_ **_finally_ ** _burn.”_

The flames suddenly roared higher. Crowley smiled coldly.

_They want fire, eh? Well, they can have it._

He unleashed a stream of hellfire from his mouth. 

The angels jumped back, wide-eyed and trembling. As they tripped over themselves, Crowley’s mind turned to their intended target. 

_If we make it out of this whole bloody mess, I’ll… have a chat with him._

*****************************************

  
  


The bell to A. Z. Fell & Co. Bookshop jangled loudly. Two man-shaped beings strolled through the door, past the dusty shelves and into the back room. Crowley flopped face-first on the sofa, groaning into the cushions.

Aziraphale hid a smile. “Are you alright, my dear?”

“Tired,” came the muffled reply. “Had a long day.”

“Ah, yes. Thwarting Heaven and Hell does make the day seem rather long.”

“Ngh.”

“I assume that you want—?”

“ _Please_.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale chuckled, already heading for the wine cellar. “No begging is necessary.” 

Crowley sat up, scowling. “It’s not begging! It’s being polite.”

“Since when have you ever cared about manners?”

“…got me there.”

Aziraphale reappeared with a bottle and two glasses. “Is the ‘93 alright?”

“It’s perfect, angel.”

They each poured themselves some wine. Crowley knocked back his glass, smacked his lips appreciatively and stretched out on the sofa. Sighing, he propped up a foot on its armrest. 

Aziraphale blinked at the outstretched foot. Slowly, he set his wineglass aside. “Er, Crowley?”

“Mm?”

“Can we talk?”

“I was going to ask the same thing.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Crowley nodded, setting down his wineglass. “You go first.”

“Well, I noticed something during your trial in Hell. I was removing… ah, some of your clothing. Y-you see, I didn’t want to ruin it with holy water or—!”

“Nah, s’fine,” Crowley gently broke in. “I get why you needed to do that. And, uh… thanks. For looking after my jacket.”

Aziraphale sighed in relief. “It was nothing, really. You wear it nearly all the time and I thought you must like it.”

“‘Course I do! Looks bloody fantastic on me.”

“Now, where was I? Ah, yes. I was removing some of your outerwear when I came upon your socks.”

“And?”

“I… I took one off.”

“…oh. You saw the burns, then.”

“Y-yes. You propping your foot up reminded me of that and… well.”

Aziraphale trailed off, wringing his hands. They both squirmed in their seats. 

“Right,” Crowley muttered. “I—”

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m ever so sorry, Crowley!” Aziraphale burst out. “All this time, and it never occurred to me that you were injured in 1941.”

“Wh- no, no. That wasn’t your fault, angel. It was my own choice and, somebody forbid, I’d make it again if I had to.”

“That isn’t the point! The point is that you were in pain and I didn’t notice. My closest friend, and I… I never saw that you were hurting.”

“I didn’t _want_ you to see.”

“Why not?”

“They’re bloody holy burns! I didn’t see the point in worrying you over something you couldn’t fix.”

“Oh, my dear. There is more to healing than the treatment of flesh wounds. People need listening ears and shoulders to lean on. And I… I was none of those things for you. I could have been, but I wasn’t.”

“But—”

“I should have been there," Aziraphale continued shakily, "and not just for the holy burns. I should have been there for the other wounds as well.”

“Wait, the other…? Ah.”

“I tried not to look, but they were in plain view once I’d settled into the bathtub. I… I couldn’t unsee them.”

Crowley stiffened. “Angel, listen—”

“I can’t unsee it _,_ and I won’t.”

“ _Listen_. That stuff was normal down there.”

“The normalcy hardly makes it a good thing!”

“You think I don’t know that?!”

Aziraphale startled. Crowley’s face immediately crumpled. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I’m the one who should apologize, my dear. I shouldn’t be—”

“No, you’re right. It’s not good that it was normal. Just — it could’ve been a lot worse, y’know?”

“I… I’m afraid I don’t.”

“I was in their ‘okay’ books most of the time. Being the original tempter didn’t hurt, either. It meant I got off easy when the hammer came down.”

“‘Easy?!’ What I saw was nowhere near—!”

“But it was. Compared to the other things they had, anyway.”

“…oh. Oh, my.”

“Yeah. Everyone gets punished down there, angel. Sometimes it’s just the usual ‘keep ‘em in line’ stuff, and sometimes it’s ‘cause you mucked things up. It always happens, one way or another.”

Crowley folded in on himself as he spoke, hugging his knees to his chest. Aziraphale tentatively settled next to him on the sofa. “So in your case…?”

“It was mostly for intimidation, but there were a few times they didn’t like my performance. Said it was too small-scale, too petty. Never really did live up to their standards in that area.”

“And if it weren’t for your Serpent of Eden status, you would’ve faced something far, far worse?”

“The Arrangement helped too, y’know.”

“Crowley. As glad as I am to hear that—”

“Fine! Yes, I would’ve been in deeper shit.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard. “I am immensely thankful, then, that you never found yourself in such a terrible situation.”

“Me too, angel," Crowley sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“That doesn’t change the fact, however, that you were deliberately injured while in their service. It… looked rather painful to my eyes. Does it still hurt?”

“Not always. I can deal with it when it does.”

“I meant mentally as well.”

“Eh… I saw a few shrinks over the centuries.”

“Shrinks?”

“Therapists. Don’t give me that surprised look, angel. I’m not a complete idiot.”

“I would never think that you were a—!”

Crowley merely raised an eyebrow.

“…alright. I’ve thought, on occasion, that you made rather idiotic choices.”

“Ha!”

“But this decision was not among those choices! I think it was unquestionably a good one that has only benefited you in the long run.”

“Then why the surprised look?” 

“You almost never divulge such information, especially not with strangers.”

“It was just easier, I guess. The whole telling a random human instead of someone I’ve known for literal millennia. Know what I mean?”

“Oh… yes, I do believe I understand now.”

“ _Any_ ways, my point is that they all did their best, what with me not being able to share all the details, and it helped some. There was only so much they could do when it kept happening, though. Not very often, since I could usually avoid it, but. Yeah. That wasn’t fun.”

“I imagine so,” Aziraphale said quietly. 

“And before you ask, I didn’t say anything ‘cause we didn’t see each other all that much. Not with Head Offices keeping us busy and keeping tabs on us.”

“Surely we met frequently enough that it wasn’t entirely impossible?”

“Not without you being all fussy and healing things up. Hell would’ve noticed something like that, angel. Both of us could’ve gotten in deep shit.”

“I suppose there’s some truth to that, as much as it pains me to say it… but just how long has this gone on for?”

Crowley attempted a casual shrug, not quite making eye contact. 

Aziraphale blanched. “You don’t mean to tell me it’s been all this time?”

“Nothing _that_ long. More like a couple centuries.”

“I… I am so, so sorry. You deserved so much better from me.”

“What? None of this is on you. It was _my_ choice not to tell you.”

“I know,” Aziraphale whispered. “And I hope you know that I am here now if you need to talk about such things. I would never judge or think any less of you for it.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. I don’t doubt it.”

“But I still wish I had taken more action. Maybe you never told me, but I should have seen the signs. I _would_ have seen them, had I not kept away. After everything you did for me over the years, I should’ve—”

Crowley stretched out his legs again, frowning. “What do you mean, ‘everything I’ve done for you?’”

“Stop trying to distract me!” Aziraphale snapped. “I’m in the middle of some rather important and needed—”

“I swear, I’m not trying to distract you, angel! Just trying to figure out what you meant by that.”

“I — wait. You are… truly curious?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You really don’t know?”

“Guess not, ‘cause I still don’t get what you’re on about.”

“Oh, where to start? You always encourage me to ask questions and to truly think about my actions, but you never push too hard. You are patient and gentle with me.”

“ _Gentle?!_ ”

“I wouldn’t bother denying it, my dear.” 

“I’m not—!”

“Surely you remember how you held my hand on the bus ride to your flat?”

Crowley opened, then closed his mouth. 

“Furthermore, you were willing to guide me when I felt lost, even when I… didn’t appreciate your input. Yet even when you disagreed, you never dismissed me. You gave me something to reflect upon and let me draw my own conclusions.”

“Uh. That’s how conversations work, angel. Nothing special there.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “But it was very special. It let me develop my beliefs beyond what Heaven dictated. You helped me find my true self while being witty, respectful and a wonderful person to call a friend. In fact, you are still all of those things and more.”

“…really? You mean that?”

“Of course I do! I can prattle on for hours and you’ll listen to every word! You’ll make it a spirited discussion over good food and drink! You… you accept all of my strange and unusual parts without question.”

“Well, yeah,” Crowley said puzzledly. “It’s who you are.”

“And that is why you are my closest friend and companion. I feel… freer when I am with you. You are so open-minded and understanding that I don’t feel the need to hide my silly self.”

“…Angel—” 

“But I have done so little for you in return! I’ve held back and stayed away from you, Crowley! All because I was afraid and a… a damned coward!” 

“You’re _not_ a coward! I saw what it’s like up there. I could feel just how much those angels…” 

Aziraphale smiled weakly. “Hated me?”

“Yeah. Demonic senses, and all that,” Crowley muttered. “But you knew they felt that way about you, right? Seemed like they’d been waiting to get rid of you.”

“There were more than a few thinly-veiled… well, threats.”

“Then you of course you were scared! It’s bloody common sense, not cowardice. You were just trying to stay alive and make the most of your situation. I…”

“My dear?”

“I get it, angel. Really, I get it now. I get why you were scared and I don’t blame you for it. The only ones at fault here are the bastards who threatened you.”

“…oh.”

“But they didn’t just threaten you, did they?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard things while I was up there,” Crowley admitted. “Things those archangel pricks were thinking about you.”

“Ah. Then I suppose you know that they think of me as a soft fool,” Aziraphale said shakily, lowering his head. 

“You’re telling me you gave those wankers the time of day?”

“It’s… difficult to ignore an archangel. Especially when they speak the truth.”

“No, no. Hold on, angel. Gabriel and his lot can’t see what’s right in front of them, alright? They’re poor sods who somehow hate the things that make you… well, you. The things that make you wonderful.”

Aziraphale’s head jerked up. “W-what?” 

“You’re soft, but I like that about you. You get so happy about the little things and you’re always so excited. Excited just to be here.”

“Ah, I don’t—”

“Don’t you deny it, angel. All of it’s true. So’s the fact that your corporation’s just… ngh. It’s round and beautiful and soft and — and _perfect_ the way it is.”

Crowley’s face reddened. A matching flush also rose to Aziraphale’s cheeks. 

“W-well—”

“And you’re so clever! You figured out the apocalypse and came up with the switching faces business that saved our hides! Really, you’re what a good angel ought to be. Upstairs should take notes from you.”

“I’m afraid they don’t much care for me. How can they when I am so weak? I haven’t been a warrior in… oh, I can’t even remember how long.”

“Angel. You’re stronger than all of them.”

“What?”

“You’re soft and kind in a world that’s not,” Crowley said quietly. “They’re cruel and unfeeling ‘cause it’s easier, but you go about things the hard way. Why? ‘Cause you think it’s the right thing.”

“I… well, I don’t just think it is. I _know_ it is.”

“See? That’s you, being strong! It takes steel to be kind, and you’ve shown me that people can have it. Gives me hope for this sorry world.”

“I do?”

“Where do y’think I got the idea to tell Adam there was still some hope?”

“…me?”

“Yeah. And I believed what I was saying.”

Crowley’s voice softened as he spoke. He grinned at Aziraphale, who stared at him with tears brimming in his eyes.

“Oh, my dear. I never knew I meant so much to you. Now I wish more than ever that I had been there for you.”

“But you were there, angel. All those times we met up for lunch, all the times we crossed paths for our Arrangement? That was you, keeping me company. And yeah, I’ve got some bruises, but they don’t hurt as much when you’re around.”

“You truly mean that?”

“I mean it. Feels like there’s more to me than all that hurting. Hell, I feel like an actual bloody person when I talk to you.”

“That’s because you _are_ ,” Aziraphale said fiercely. “You are the most alive person I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. And don’t you dare tell me that you’re not a good person after saying all of those things!”

“A good person? Now you’re just teasing,” Crowley sniggered.

“I meant every word. You are unapologetically your witty and mischievous self, and I love you all the more for it!”

Silence briefly hung over the room. 

“…you _what?”_

“O-oh. Oh, dear.” 

“Run that by me again, ‘cause I could’ve sworn you said—”

“That I love you? Y-yes, I did. Or I do. Love you, that is.”

Crowley made a strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m afraid that rather slipped out,” Aziraphale stuttered. “Forgive me. That was hardly the best time for such a—”

“How long.”

“Pardon?”

“How long,” Crowley repeated hoarsely, “have you, y’know?”

Aziraphale blushed. “Ah, well… quite some time. I’m uncertain of the precise moment it began, though it feels as if I’ve always felt that way. I’m ashamed to admit, however, that I only realized the full extent of my feelings in 1941.”

“The night in the church?”

“Why, yes. How did you know it was that night in particular?”

“I never forgot your face. The one you made after I handed over your books. It made me think that…”

“It made you think what?”

“That you loved me back.”

“You mean…?”

“For somebody’s — yes! Yes, I bloody love you, angel!” Crowley exploded, flinging his hands in the air. “Been going at it for six thousand blasted years, never knowing if you… if you felt the same. If you could even feel the same.”

“Oh, dearest,” Aziraphale breathed with wide, sad eyes. “Why on Earth _wouldn’t_ I love you?” 

“Demons aren’t a lovable lot. Comes with the whole ‘unforgivable’ thing.”

“I believe that nearly everyone is worthy of forgiveness. Only in this particular case, I don’t think any forgiveness is necessary.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Well, you never truly did anything that would necessitate forgiveness.”

“Angel, I… I fell _._ I had to have done _something_ wrong.”

Aziraphale gently shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s where I must respectfully disagree with you, as well as with Her. All you ever did was ask questions. There is nothing inherently wrong with that.”

“I — look. I don’t remember much about that whole mess, but I do remember flinging some pointed ones at… at everybody. At other angels and even Her. It’s a wonder they didn’t toss me out sooner.”

“What did I do to force Gabriel and Lord Beelzebub to rethink Armageddon?”

“Huh?”

“Please, my dear. I know this is a non-sequitur, but I ask that you humor me.”

“Alright. Um, you walked up to them and… oh.” 

“Indeed. I confess to taking a page out of your book in that moment. That’s why it can’t be such a bad thing. If asking a pointed question prevents the apocalypse, then surely it must be something good after all.”

“Wait, wait. It was a page out of _my_ book?”

“I learned to ask questions from the very best, my dear. You… you inspired me greatly. You always have.”

“…always?”

“Ever since we first met,” Aziraphale admitted softly. “I longed to tell you, just as I wished to say that you _are_ lovable whenever you said the opposite.”

“You… you really think that I’m…?”

“You are loved and you are entirely deserving of love, no matter what all of Heaven or Hell says on the matter.”

“All of them?”

“To quote you, my dear, they… they can all bloody sod off!”

A stunned silence descended on the room. Neither spoke. 

Then, Crowley threw back his head and cackled. A giggle bubbled up Aziraphale’s throat. Crowley wheezed even harder at that, and they collapsed against each other in a fit of raucous laughter. Eventually, they calmed down. Aziraphale miracled a few handkerchiefs to dab at their teary eyes. Crowley snickered at the tartan pattern, but took it all the same. 

“Bloody Hell, angel! I never thought you’d say it like _that_.”

“Neither did I! After keeping it to myself for so long, I believe I surprised us both.”

“You been wanting to say that for a while, then?”

“A very long while. It’s the least of what they deserve to hear. They frightened me into keeping you at arms’ length. Not just out of fear for myself, but for you.”

Crowley grimaced. “And from what we’ve seen, we were right.”

“Indeed. Neither of us were cowards to be fearful,” Aziraphale murmured. “Though I despise how I was always afraid of one thing or another.”

“Same here. Wasn’t any fun, that’s for sure. But it’s over now.”

“That it is, thank goodness. It almost feels strange, not having to worry about being seen together, but it’s a very good type of strange.”

“You could say it’s _our_ kind of strange. If you wanted to.”

“Oh, my dear. I _know_ it’s our special variety of strange, and I am enjoying it already. I, ah, I want more of it, actually.”

“You do?”

“Yes. In fact… I believe I am finally ready to go faster.”

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands into his as he spoke. Crowley stared down at their hands, then back up at Aziraphale. He found himself looking into a glowing smile that rivaled the sun with its brilliance.

“You’re sure?”

“Perfectly sure.”

“You’re absolutely, 100% sure?”

“My dear, I have never felt this sure in my entire existence.”

“You’re really alright with this?”

“Nothing brings me greater comfort or happiness than being with you.”

“Angel,” Crowley breathed. A grin slowly spread across his face, prompting an even deeper blush from Aziraphale. 

“Well, what about you? Are you quite certain?”

“I’ve been certain for six thousand years. Still am, believe it or not.” 

Aziraphale snorted, and Crowley chuckled. They leaned closer. 

“Is it alright if I hug you, my dear?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Warm arms encircled a thin frame and gently pulled it against a soft middle. Crowley inhaled sharply. Aziraphale froze. 

“What’s the matter? Should I—?”

“No! Don’t stop. S’fine. Just — I always wanted this.”

“Is it alright, then?”

“Better than alright. It’s better than anything I dreamed of,” Crowley whispered. He wrapped his lanky arms around a padded waist. 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Aziraphale whispered back. “There is one thing, however, that might make it even better.”

“Yeah?”

“Perhaps a good and thorough kiss.”

“Sounds bloody fantastic to me.”

Lips brushed together, and everything but each other melted away. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any comments or constructive criticism are welcomed. I’m always looking for ways to improve my writing. :)
> 
> Happy holidays and best wishes to everyone as well!


End file.
